Trying to be Okay

Prosopagnosia had no cure. It was a permanent neuro-degenerative disease affecting my facial recognition system. I had this when I was a kid— my neurologist diagnosed me as being born with it. It's a genetically-induced condition, for my case.

"That's already a miracle, Meredith. People born with prosopagnosia tend to have the least chance to see anyone's face. Most people, throughout their lives, haven't had a chance to see the faces of people important to them."

I stared at Dr. Gregorio Baller, Aunt Bernadeth's second husband. He had been my neurologist since I was a kid. He knew my prosopagnosia like the back of his hand.

After I told him what happened last night, he told me it was a miracle. I was stunned. The anger I felt earlier subsided.

"You already experienced a miracle for a prosopagnosia patient, Meredith. The fact that you can still see people's facial features at some point when you move your face closer to them was a miracle already." Greg held my hand and tapped it as a